


Molten

by sapphose



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Episode: s04e10 Our Man Bashir, M/M, Restraints, Trektober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphose/pseuds/sapphose
Summary: When Julian had fantasized about being tied up in close proximity to Garak, in the subterranean lair of an evil supervillain with Commander Sisko's face was not what he had in mind.For Trektober Day #3, based on the prompt "restraints."
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88
Collections: Trektober 2020





	Molten

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the_last_dillards author's note in their fic "Live and Let Die."

They were in an underground cave, because of course they were.

The metal pole of scaffolding they were tied to held up a 1964 laser device, because of course it did.

And Dr. Hippocrates Noah had handcuffed them together, because of course he had.

All in all, this was not what Julian had in mind when he decided to spend a relaxing couple of hours before his shift playing his new holoprogram. (Nor was it what he had in mind the few times he had fantasized about being tied up with Garak, a train of thought which was only pursued very late at night and immediately followed by a sonic shower on the highest intensity setting.)

Ordinarily at this point in the story, he would wait for Dr. Honey Bare to arrive, then seduce her and take advantage of her distraction to slip something out of her pocket. Kiss the girl, get the key- simple. But nothing with Garak involved could ever be plain and simple.

“Doctor,” Garak was complaining, “I don’t know if I’ve made this explicit to you or not, but I really don’t want to die chained to a twentieth century laser.”

He had made it very explicit. Julian ignored Garak and pulled at the metal wrapped around their wrists, testing. Maybe, if he used his full strength, he could break it. However, if he did, Garak was sure to notice, and Garak had already demonstrated a significant and worrying interest in finding out Julian’s secrets. He could not be counted on to believe Julian’s explanations that humans were capable of great feats of strength with sufficient adrenaline.

Garak, for his part, was still talking.

“I think it’s time to end the program,” he suggested, and Julian gritted his teeth.

“We can’t do that. We’d wipe out the patterns of Sisko and the others.” Which Garak already knew perfectly well. It was almost as if he was testing Julian, trying to see how far this would be allowed to go. Well, he’d soon find out that Julian Bashir, Secret Agent, did not risk his friends’ lives.

(One could argue that he was currently risking Garak’s, but that was Garak’s own fault for barging into the holosuite in the first place.)

“Well then, may I suggest calling for Commander Eddington and having him send someone in here to remove these handcuffs?” Garak tugged his wrist uselessly a few times to demonstrate. Julian felt the movement. If they coordinated their efforts and pulled in two different directions at once, would that work? Probably not.

There was also the danger that if Garak started moving more, he would be wriggling right up against Julian, and Julian’s body could not be trusted to behave itself in such a situation.

“No. You heard what Odo said. We don’t know what will happen if we interrupt the holo-imaging array by calling for the doors. The entire program might collapse and kill them all.” A possibility which Garak appeared determined to ignore.

“The only thing I know for sure, Doctor, is that when molten lava comes pouring into this cave, you and I are going to be very uncomfortable.”

Which was, unfortunately, a more or less accurate appraisal of the situation.

Well, shit.

Julian did not doubt his own ability to come up with a plan. He just needed more time, and, preferably, a key.

“Can you lock-pick handcuffs?” he asked.

“Not with my bare hands, no,” Garak retorted. It was a sign of how bad he considered the circumstances to be that he did not even attempt to deny that a tailor would have such an ability.

Not with bare hands. Did that mean he could with a tool? Something small and sharp. A wire, or a hair pin, or…

“Could you do it with a cufflink?” If only they weren’t wearing bow ties. A tiepin could also have been a possibility.

“It would be easier to ask Eddington for a key.”

“It would be _easier_ if you answered the question,” Julian snapped.

“It’s possible, Doctor, if you could get one off. However, I can’t help but notice that we are running a little short on time.”

They would need enough time for Julian to worm the cufflink out of his sleeve, with hands still tied, and then who knew how long it would take Garak to actually pick the lock.

There was one stall tactic Julian knew, which was almost guaranteed to work, but he really, _really_ didn’t want to have to do it.

(Or rather, he really wanted to, and that was the problem.)

“Garak, do you trust me?”

“If you’re asking me that, whatever plan you have can’t be very good,” Garak said.

Julian supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything else, especially not from a known liar with a pathological fear of trust.

“The game has a built-in pause trigger,” he explained. “The plot will stop moving forward if the player initiates certain kinds of encounters.”

“The computer won’t let you freeze the program,” Garak reminded him sourly.

“This is different. It’s not an external command, it’s a basic part of the characters’ coding. If I start one of these kinds of encounters, they’ll all suddenly find something else that they need to be doing until I’m finished. It also stops all countdown timers and alarms.”

“How very convenient.” Garak made the word sound downright insulting. “I assume there is a good reason you didn’t bring it up before.”

“Well, the type of encounter I mean is… it’s very intimate.”

There was a short pause as Garak digested this information. Julian noticed that his own heartbeat had become rather loud.

“That isn’t a funny joke, Doctor.”

No, it wasn’t.

“I’m not joking, Garak.”

More silence.

This was not how Julian had ever planed to proposition Garak. Ideally it would have involved chocolates and some light bickering and a notable absence of any station-wide emergencies. Julian would have worn one of his leisure shirts with an asymmetrical neckline and made devastatingly intelligent points in their argument and kissed Garak with the lights down low.

There was no point in thinking about what could have been, now. Maybe one day in the future Julian would have his chance for a proper go of it (if Garak ever wanted to see him again after this, of course).

“Very well.” Garak’s voice was curt. “Do what you must, Doctor.”

Hardly an enthusiastic yes. In other circumstances, Julian would not have considered it consent.

But today was the day for spoiling fantasies.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he requested, and that got nothing but a snort in reply.

Julian inhaled deeply and got to work. If he tilted his neck at the right angle, he could reach the side of Garak’s, so that was where he began. He applied his mouth to kissing, and his fingertips to prying free the cufflink, which was no easy task in their current position.

If it were part of the story, this would have been a deeply sexy moment, where Garak realized that Julian was handsome and quite skillful with his tongue, and pleaded with him not to stop. Instead, Garak felt stiff and unyielding beneath his lips. It was, without a doubt, the most awkward encounter Julian had ever been a part of it, and he found himself regretting every second that had passed since he allowed Garak to stay.

He was never going to be able to look Garak in the eye again after this.

And why was it so hard to pop out the damn cufflink?

“You can use a little more force, Doctor,” Garak said quietly.

That was… unexpected. Julian paused and blinked.

“With the cufflink,” Garak clarified, only he didn’t sound exactly certain.

Nothing with Garak was ever simple. He said one thing and meant another, and if only one layer of euphemism was involved that was to be considered refreshingly straightforward.

Cardassian skin was thicker than human, and the scaly protective ridge might not have a lot of sensitive nerve endings. More force would be required, logically, to evoke pleasurable feeling.

Julian tested the hypothesis with positioning his mouth at the edge of the ridge and sucking fervently at the cool, textured skin. It felt surprisingly good against Julian’s tongue-

And he was not the only one for whom it felt good, evidently, because Garak’s breath became a protracted hiss.

Julian grinned. Perhaps this was salvageable after all.

Teeth were next to try. He scraped his teeth against Garak’s scutes and was rewarded with a shiver and a gasp. Nipping and nibbling had Garak pushing his body further into Julian’s, a welcome pressure that Julian was determined to return, starting to rub himself up and down against Garak’s firm bulk.

It was a surprise when something sharp jabbed into Julian’s palm, and he released that the cufflink had finally come loose.

Oh. Right. There was a point to this, one other than finding out exactly what kind of sounds Garak could make.

Julian tilted his head back and admired the vasolidation of Garak’s skin. Absolutely breathtaking.

“I got the cufflink, Garak. Your turn,” he murmured, and passed it along into Garak’s hand. “Do you want me to stop so you can focus?"

He did not want to stop, quite the opposite, but he also did not want to do more than Garak was comfortable with.

“I think you should continue,” Garak replied, in a voice rougher and rawer than Julian had ever heard from him.

Garak, enigmatic and elusive Garak, was losing composure.

Julian returned to Garak’s neck with hot breath and great enthusiasm. The combination of forceful, well-placed bites and grinding his hips against Garak produced a shudder and a soft moan that Julian wanted to hear again, and again, and again.

Why had it taken them this long?

The amount of contact between their bodies, which had felt embarrassingly too much when Noah tied them together, now felt drastically insufficient. Julian needed to touch and taste and _feel_ every inch of Garak, and he needed it as soon as possible, as many times as possible.

The click of the handcuffs unlocking released them into each other, mouths surging together, and Julian’s thoughts were all along the lines of _yes_ and _more_ and _please_ when Garak rather suddenly pulled back.

“We should go find the others,” he said, and it took Julian’s strangled thought processes a minute to catch up.

Others. Sisko, Kira, Miles, Dax. Holosuites malfunctioning, station in danger. Right.

Only, he did not want to go heroically save the day sporting a full erection.

“The plot won’t progress until we’ve finished,” he reminded Garak, winding his arms around the other man’s waist. “They’ll be safe.”

“We are free now,” Garak said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “There is no need to continue stalling.”

Ah. Garak thought that Julian had just been doing this for a distraction. That called for clarification.

“Good. It means we can take our time.” Julian lowered his hands to cup Garak’s ass, leaned his head forward to whisper in Garak’s ear. “If that’s alright with you?”

“ _Yesss_ ,” Garak hissed, and their next kiss was scalding.

Even in the absence of lava, Julian felt very molten indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I usually fade to black as soon as kissing begins, so I tried to push myself further this time. One day maybe I'll succeed in writing actual smut.
> 
> If you want to read more of my Trektober stuff, you can find me at sapphosewrites.tumblr.com. I'll be posting shorter vignettes that don't feel long enough for AO3, but I still hope you will enjoy reading.


End file.
